


When There's A Shadow, You Reach For The Sun

by Measured



Category: Radiant Historia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it seemed so right, all tight in her heart this, happiness. This was hers. This was her way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When There's A Shadow, You Reach For The Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepfighter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepfighter/gifts).



> Post series, full of spoilers and some minor extrapolation. Title comes from "Only If" - Enya, because Enya reminds me tons of Aht, apparently.

1.  
Before she could speak, she heard. There were sounds like chimes on the wind, the whispers of what she would later learn to be spirits above her bed. Aht could see them, a faint glittering light which was her mobile, her lullabies to make her drift off to sleep. When she grew older, she could hear the words through the sound.

They seemed so sad, so lost and alone. Aht would reach out to touch the shimmering mist of them, and for a moment, they would smile again. And then they'd disappear into nothingness.

And it seemed so right, all tight in her heart, this happiness. This was hers. This was her way.

2.  
Aht had always known how to smile, but she didn't know a lot about dancing until the day Liese taught her. She'd been hopping up, going in time with the ghost light of the dead. She never feared them, not even the scary ones, because they wouldn't be scary anymore when she prayed over them. And it seemed right, even when she didn't know the words.

It was Liese's laughter which made her turn around.

"That's good! You're quite the little dancer already, Aht. Soon you'll be joining the troupe on all our journeys," she said.

"Really? Really? I'll be able to go with Uncle Vanoss and everything?" Aht said. She jumped up and down, her poncho spreading like wings. Butterflies and birdies, spirits and moths.

"Really!" Liese said.

"Ehehe." She spun around. She closed her eyes almost shut until she looked like Liese, but not quite. Liese laughed and clapped. "See, you're getting the hang of it. Now, let me help you a little more..."

She took her hand and together they were spinning until the colors blurred and blurred and became all pretty. The grass was soft and green beneath their hooves, and she wanted to fall down on it and roll around and feel the leaves of grass prickle her cheeks.

She followed Liese, but her steps turned clumsy where Liese's were graceful. But Aht didn't let it get her down, she let go of Liese's hands and danced her own way. And it was hers, just like the songs and prayers she knew without anyone ever telling her.

"You're going to grow into a beautiful woman," Liese said.

"Like you?" Aht said.

"No, silly. Like yourself," Liese said. She patted Aht's head affectionately. "You'll wow us all, especially with dancing like that."

Aht kept the knowing in her chest, past her bones and curled up in her heart. She liked it that way, the spirits her own little secret. And if she talked to herself sometimes, then the adults just smiled and thought she had imaginary friends.

She giggled, full of secrets and light. And the best of all was that nobody knew.

 

3.  
Knowing the dead was something she'd never had to learn the language of, he was no exception.  
She met him once, then twice. She wasn't sure how she could tell, but the minute she met him, she knew that she knew that they met once. Somewhere. Somewhere.

It prickled under her skin, like sparks. His soul seemed empty and yet it was filled with a sadness. Stocke didn't even know he was unhappy, but she did. She heard it deep inside him, all tight and waiting for something.

But she knew he was opening up. Aht didn't know how she knew, but she trusted it.

She didn't know what he was at first, this living not living thing. But the spirits told her soon, told her that he was a dead man walking. She'd heard all about the sacrifices, and how they kept the world alive, but she'd never _met_ one.

And it seemed so wrong that the world might not have him in it. He was so strong and smart and cool–why did it have to be him? Couldn't he just join in with them, staying safe and _there_ , because he didn't deserve to go away, not him.

So she kept close, andtried everything she could to keep him safe. It wasn't fair that he'd be sacrificed, or that his soul was so sad.

When she danced, she didn't just dance because she was happy. She danced to try and get him to smile. So far, no luck, but she never gave up.

Not even when it seemed like all was lost.

4.

It took a while for her to understand the twinges of something niggling at her, but soon she caught on. She saw the two children bathed in light that Stocke would talk to, and the book he kept close to him at all times.

It started with a dream. Then more dreams of another her, another Stocke, and a whole other group who were alike, but not entirely the same. The other her would step up and smile and whisper her things. To be fair, Aht was never very good at whispering, nor was the other her. But no one seemed to hear her in this dream world, so she could be as loud as she wanted.

Through all changes, Stocke remained the same. There was no other him, yet as time went by, she saw him going closer and closer to an end.

When the group had begun to set up camp, she tugged on his sleeve. It wasn't too late, he wouldn't have to disappear like Uncle Vanoss's daughter. She'd said it before in another time, and only realized in fragments how that'd gone.

"You could be a sword dancer, Uncle Vanoss wouldn't mind you coming–"

"Aht," he said. It was calm, but firm. Just saying her name like that was enough to silence her. "I'm not going to be a sword dancer."

But he was once before. That was only a front, though. He didn't know, did he? The spirits had told her what would happen.

"But...I don't want you to leave!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Stocke said. There was almost a gentle inflection in his voice. He thought his heart was made of stone, but it wasn't. It wasn't at all.

5.  
Sometimes she couldn't help but think of a private garden. She'd keep him safe, all locked up where nobody could force him to be a sacrifice. She'd plant it really pretty, make sure he wanted for nothing. She knew of a place between worlds–she used to play there when she'd been in Celestia.

But it'd nothing more than a pretty cage–like that time she captured a stunned butterfly after a rain. She'd tried so hard to protect it, but its pretty wings rubbed off on her hands, leaving them covered in orange dust.

It couldn't fly. She'd hovered over it, meaning to protect it from every ail, but a bird swooped down when she was looking the other way and plucked it right up.

So she smiled, she danced. He knew now what was happening, and did nothing to stop it. If he couldn't be happy, then she would have to be happy for him until the happiness overflowed and he felt it too.

Smiling when she wanted to cry was being strong, wasn't it? She didn't know yet, but she was learning.

6.  
Eruca tried, Roasch tried, even she tried, but Stocke strode his way towards the crystal. But she felt a knowing in her heart that this wasn't the end. All this time she'd been prepared for him disappearing, but she could still feel him.

It was like the words of death, the prayers, the songs.

She just knew.

7.  
There were so many voices that she could barely make them out, but she tried. She listened extra hard, reaaaal hard, because she knew that somewhere, there was gonna be Stocke, or a spirit that knew about him. The desert was dried up of mana and hope. The spirits were happy to see her, though. They were happy to ascend and finally find release.

The sand sunk under her hooves, making little reverse anthills, like those ones filled with those bugs–Ricky called them _lions_ , but she wasn't stupid, lions were big cats, not bugs. (And sometimes armies, though only young ones, and that doesn't count 'cause it was only a name, a title.)

It was so different from Celestia, from everywhere she had ever know, but she had to be strong. Stocke was strong, so she was gonna be too. She would even meditate and keep to her studies. Uncle Vanoss always said that she could wait another year, that she was too young to know the words, know even what she was. But she knew now.

They dismissed it as a crush. Liese, Uncle Vanoss, even Elm. She was too young to form anything lasting. But it wasn't, and she was gonna wait forever, and even ever, which was longer than forever, or a forever plus. Or, maybe even better, she would do more than waiting. Waiting was a bit boring, anyways, especially in this sad place. She was gonna look out into the sky and find him.

She closed her eyes, but instead of thinking of nothing, she opened herself up until she felt like a flower, all blooming and full. She opened up her heart and waited, until it was as big as the world, until her love could heal the spirits, even his. Except his was gonna come back, instead of ascending up to heaven. He promised he'd come back, and even with a borrowed soul and a half living body, she knew he could live a long time. She didn't know how she knew this, it was just one of those inner things, like praying for the dead or touching the spirits and seeing them smile.

She just knew.

She knew he wasn't dead, she could feel him out there somewhere far away, but still alive. Maybe when she got strong enough, she could talk to him and convince him to come home. Because they were all real sad and missed him a lot.

There was so much to tell him, like how the stars go on and on in the desert at night, or the color of a desert sunset, the juicy desert fruit, and the heat of the sun on her skin and fur.

She stored it up in little boxes, hidden in her heart like those first secrets. Each day she started her prayers like a conversation:

 _We miss you, Stocke! You gotta come back so we can tell you all the things that happened while you were gone._

 _It's peaceful now, and it's all because of you!_

 _So...you can come back now. Please come back to us._   
_  
We'll all be waiting for you.  
_

And then she opened her eyes up and danced, like her own form of meditation out there in the sand. And the spirits danced with her, just beyond her fingertips.


End file.
